Bach’s St. John Passion, with its famous opening chorus traversed by shadows and light, is a powerful musical and spiritual reflection. Dramatic, grandiose, complex, resolutely theatrical: there has been no lack of superlatives to describe this supreme masterpiece of western music. Philippe Herreweghe and Collegium Vocale Gent present an accomplished reading that reflects their knowledge of the composer, based on extensive research and deepened by countless concerts. Soloists Krešimir Stražanac and Maximilian Schmitt demonstrate the breadth of their talents in the roles of Jesus and the Evangelist. © Phi

Conductor John Eliot Gardiner, said England's Independent newspaper, "has had the last laugh" -- Vol. 1 of his Bach cantata series was named Record of the Year at the 2005 Classic FM Gramophone Awards in London, after the big Deutsche Grammophon label pulled out of the project and dropped Gardiner just before it got underway in 2000. No doubt a bit of gloating is appropriate along with justified satisfaction in a tough job well done -- Gardiner and his Monteverdi Choir and English Baroque Soloists undertook a "Bach cantata pilgrimage," singing all of Bach's cantatas on their liturgically appropriate dates while making a grand tour of acoustically appropriate European churches, many of them with links to the original circumstances in which Bach worked. The recordings, Gardiner said, were "a corollary of the concerts, not their raison d'être" prior to each night's concert, engineers recorded the final rehearsal in situ. By the time these recordings were made in London, the concert series was well under way, and, in the words of bass Dietrich Henschel, the performers "had become spiritually familiar with one another." The results, issued on Gardiner's own SDG label, fully live up to the awards hype. Gardiner's interpretations, though they fall under the historical-performance classification, are personal, subjective, dramatic, and romantic. The program naturally coheres thanks to the common origins of the works in the phases of the liturgical year around which Bach organized his thinking (six cantatas are presented on two discs, three for the Feast of St. John the Baptist in mid-June and three for the first Sunday after Trinity), and every element of the sumptuous booklet presentation contributes to an appreciation of Bach's religious language, as audiences in German churches of the eighteenth century would have understood it. So Gardiner has indeed had the last laugh. But perhaps he would be the first to concede that the difficult birth of this project helped him push classical music toward its future, and even that the music is perhaps better, more urgent, than it might otherwise have been. In place of what would have been a series of implacably standardized albums on Deutsche Grammophon, we will now have releases that are individual, committed, and free. Gardiner's liner notes are taken from journals he wrote during the Bach pilgrimage, and they help bring home the immediacy and excitement of this project. The next step, as recordings like this move online, will be to turn this kind of journal into a blog. The old superstructure of the classical recording industry is collapsing into ruin, but this recording provides some of the clearest testimony yet that new and exciting small enterprises will fill the void. © TiVo

John Eliot Gardiner, the Monteverdi Choir, and the English Baroque Soloists come to Bach's St. John Passion after their ambitious traversal of all the church cantatas, so they are immersed in the subtleties of the composer's expressive sensibilities and musical styles. Their performance of the St. John Passion is emotionally explosive and often darkly dramatic; the opening chorus, for instance, is roiling and tumultuous, almost chaotic, a wrenching opening to the passion narrative. As dark as the tone is, it is never murky; this is the darkness of obsidian whose blackness is revealed when light glints off its sharply defined surfaces. The performances of the soloists match the brilliance, finesse, and clarity of the chorus and orchestra. As the Narrator, tenor Mark Padmore sings with urgency and acute sensitivity to the text; he comes across as an engrossing storyteller. His voice has an exemplary purity and he is equally impressive in the lyrical tenor arias. Bass Hanno Müller-Brachmann is a warmly sympathetic Jesus, and bass Peter Harvey is a forceful Pilate. The remaining soloists, all of whom are excellent, have relatively small parts in the passion, but soprano Joann Lunn and Bernarda Fink are standouts. The recording offers clean and exceptionally well-defined sound. Gardiner's version should be especially attractive to listeners looking for a polishedperformance that emphasizes the emotionally charged atmosphere of the score. © TiVo

Veteran Dutch historical-instrument specialist Sigiswald Kuijken adopts a version of the one-voice-per-part procedure in this performance of Bach's St. John Passion, BWV 245, using four soloists and another quartet for the "ripieno" or choral passages. Refreshingly, he doesn't even try to claim historical authenticity for this in the interview-format notes, pointing instead to the "extremely natural balance with the instrumental ensemble" and the "textual expressivity his approach permits." He even concedes that for a major performance of this work, Bach would likely have had larger forces available. If you believe that the contrast between German Lutheran chorus and Italianate melody lies at the heart of Bach's appeal, forming a richness unparalleled since Albrecht Dürer infused Italian color into the severe German figures of his paintings, then look elsewhere. For the adherent of Kuijken's approach, however, this St. John Passion merits consideration, as much for the unexpected instrumental details emerging from Kuijken's La Petite Bande as for the work of the soloists; alto Petra Noskaiová is superb, but the others are a mixed bag. The sound, from Belgium's Academiezaal concert hall, is a major plus. © TiVo

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Even if the concept belongs more to the 1960s of the 20th Century, the St John Passion can really be considered as a "work in progress". Or rather: there does not exist a version of St John which is at once complete, definitive, authentic and dated (or at least datable); whereas, notably, a sumptuous manuscript of the St Matthew Passion, signed by the Cantor, has survived... St John exists in four different forms: a first from 1724, of which only a few parts have been recovered. A second, fairly complete version from 1725 exists, whose opening and closing choirs, as well as a number of arias, have been changed from the version of the year prior. A third from 1739 is surely authentic, but very partial. A fourth and final version exists dating from 1746/1749 - the dates are unclear; it is this final version which has been recorded here, although the "normal" score which has been performed for decades is a concoction by the Neue Bach Gesellschaft, whose editors have taken the ten first numbers from the 1739 version, and the remainder from the 1746/49 version and also from the first version... A real cocktail. This recording is based on the 1749 version, which itself revisits certain aspects of... the first version from 1724! To be sure, there are a number of differences in terms of instrumentation, the order of the numbers; some airs are there, others not. By way of comparison, the Mainz Bach Orchestra and Ralf Otto have added, at the end of the album, the supplementary numbers which figure in the 1725 version, which Bach never re-wrote until the end of his life. A fascinating juxtaposition. © SM/Qobuz

Anyone seeking a reliable, historically informed rendition of J.S. Bach's St. John Passion would do well to consider this exceptional recording by Cappella Amsterdam and the Orchestra of the Eighteenth Century, conducted by early music pioneer Frans Brüggen. The high quality of the singing recommends it, especially the performances of Markus Schäfer as the Evangelist and Thomas Oliemans as Jesus, and the other soloists and chorus convey the story of the Passion of Christ with eloquence and gravitas. The original instruments and authentic period style of the playing give the instrumental parts a strikingly plangent quality, which is perhaps most vivid in the oboes, whose chains of suspensions are among the most affecting characteristics of this work. While the performers are all in top form, the recording process may be the one aspect listeners will question. The St. John Passion was recorded live in Rotterdam, Haarlem, and Leiden, so the quality of the sound is variable from one hall to the next, and highly echoic in many tracks. Ostensibly taken from the best takes of these performances, and assembled to give the impression of one event, there are nonetheless significant differences in the placement of the voices and in the closeness of the orchestra that may indicate some changes in microphone placement. Beyond these subtle points, this is still a terrific package that serves the music well and bears comparison with other period versions. © TiVo

The labels lately established by performing organizations have mostly been devoted to new releases, but there is a lot to be said for using them to resurrect historical performances and recordings. These tend to be ones that have hung in people's memories for years, well after newer recordings have become available. There couldn't be a better example than this, the first historical release from the Bayerische Staatsoper Recordings label. It reproduces a 1984 live performance of Mendelssohn's Elijah, Op. 70 (as Elias, in the original German) from the Nationaltheater München, with the Bayerisches Staatsorchester conducted by Wolfgang Sawallisch and the Chor des städtischen Musikvereins zu Düsseldorf. (The latter got involved because the Bayerischer Staatsopernchor was unavailable, but the choir acquits itself very well, unsurprisingly inasmuch as Mendelssohn himself was one of its former directors.) Sawallisch was noted for his way with Mendelssohn, to which he brought a noble Germanic tinge that makes a nice contrast with the usual English performances. He never did better than here, and upon hearing that tapes of this performance had been preserved, he is said to have exclaimed, "Thank God they're safe!" The soloists, led by baritone Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau in the title role and tenor Peter Schreier as Obadiah, are superb. Another attraction is the hardbound booklet, delving deep into Mendelssohn's philosophical place in German society (really philosophical -- Hegel and his dialectic come into it). The live sound from 1984 is impressive indeed, with crowd noise kept to an absolute minimum in a superb display of discipline. A wonderful historical reissue that catches the intense drama in Mendelssohn's oratorio.© James Manheim /TiVo

John Eliot Gardiner literally has a lifetime of intimate familiarity with J.S. Bach's six motets without independent instrumental accompaniment; he reports that as a boy chorister of 11 or 12 he knew the treble lines to all of them. That familiarity is evident in these exceptionally insightful and exceptionally well-sung performances with the Monteverdi Choir. The group lives up to its reputation as being in the very highest echelon of choirs worldwide, singing these especially treacherous works with almost superhuman precision, immaculate tone and balance, and infectious, unguarded passion. The singers handle Bach's exquisitely interwoven counterpoint with apparent ease even at the outrageously fast but emotionally appropriate tempos that Gardiner takes. He avoids the academic rigidity that can easily prevail in performances of counterpoint this intricate by always maintaining a dancing sense of lightness and buoyancy. The performances are also characterized by a warm intimacy. That's due at least in part the choir's remarkable control of dynamics; at its quietest moments the music comes across as an almost hushed whisper. That, in combination with the stellar engineering, creates the impression that the listener is being treated to a private performance by singers nearly close enough to reach out and touch. At the same time there is no sense of crowding and the performers have plenty of room for their singing to ring out brilliantly. Gardiner deploys a small continuo group colorfully but discreetly, offering an ideally balanced underpinning for the choir. Listeners who want to hear these small masterpieces need look no further than these exemplary and thoroughly engaging performances. Highly recommended. © TiVo

Anna Prohaska asked Wolfgang Katschner and the Lautten Compagney at the outset of the coronavirus crisis whether they shouldn’t spontaneously organize a musical get-together in this period. This has now resulted in "Redemption". This is a sequence of music selected solely from Bach cantatas, compiled in keeping with the aforenamed conceptual association. "Redemption" has multiple meanings, for instance: can music give us consolation in times of sickness and crisis; can it open up emotional and contemplative spaces for us; is it redemptive for musicians to be the “instruments” in engendering music and therefore spirituality… ? Besides Anna Prohaska as soloist and three other singers, "Redemption" features a larger group of musicians – around twenty instrumentalists. These musicians serve a dual role: they expertly accompany the arias that Anna Prohaska sings and they also represent the concept of human interaction and a shared collective experience which has been missing during these times. © Alpha Classics